


Keeping Cool

by TheChimeraSculptress



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChimeraSculptress/pseuds/TheChimeraSculptress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marie tries to keep cool on a hot summer's day but her mutation doesn't make it easy. Foofy little fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Cool

"Oh-my-god, that feels sooooooooo good!"

Marie closed her eyes, groaning her satisfaction as the icy cold water swirled around her bare feet. Initially the ankle deep water had been unbearably – almost painfully - cold and she had wondered whether the addition of a bucket load of ice cubes might have been a bit over the top, but now that her feet had adjusted it was just…just blissful. She could literally hear the grateful hiss of her heated skin in response to this much needed moment of respite. 

She sighed contentedly, determined to stand here all afternoon. The effect was incredible, as if the blood coursing through her veins had dropped a few degrees and was bringing relief to every inch of her body. She even contemplated refilling the bath with more icy cold water once this fill had turned tepid and stand here all evening too. 

She frowned miserably. It wasn't fair. It was a blisteringly hot sunny day and she was stuck in the mansion, standing, like some idiot, in a bath full of cold water, whilst everyone else was down at the lake in their skimpy beach wear having a fabulous time.

Having poison skin really sucked. Sucked big time. 

She blinked back her emotions but a single tear fought through the barrier to escape lazily down her pale cheek. It felt hot against her cooling skin. Was she really expected to spend the rest of her life like this? Unable to ever experience touch, enjoy the sun on her skin, to lead a normal life? Jean and the Professor were helping, teaching her control, their patience and kindness overwhelming, but so far nothing had helped. It was just so difficult to discipline that complicated mind of hers.

She peered down at herself, at the depressing black sweats rolled up to her knees, and her heart sank. She was even wearing clothes to stand in the bath, how pathetic was that? She couldn't even relax enough to wear a bikini in the relatively private bathroom she shared with Jubilee and Kitty.

But that was the problem – it _was_ shared. And even though they were down at the lake, her friends _could_ just burst in at any second. (Or in the case of Kitty, _phase_ in through the wall). They simply trusted her enough to keep covered.

Sometimes she wished that the burden could be taken off her shoulders once in a while and that _she_ could be the one doing the trusting for a change – trust _them_ not to accident touch _her_. Sometimes the responsibility that went with her mutation could be a torture in itself. 

Of course, she could've locked the bathroom door but a desperate part of her wanted to just feel normal, wanted to feel comfortable with the idea of her friends suddenly bursting in for whatever reason. That was what roommates did. That was what _real life_ was like.

She wiggled her toes, relishing the feel of a half melted ice cube that had lodged between her toes and found herself fantasising a scenario of running naked through the Canadian wilderness, bare feet crunching deep into the soft snow as wispy flakes fell into her hair. She allowed herself a fleeting grin despite her melancholy. Well, it made a change from the usual X-rated Logan daydreams.

As if on cue, the moment the delicious Wolverine popped into her head, she suddenly heard a muffled knock and then his voice. It sounded distant and she guessed he was at the main door to the room.

"Marie? You in there?"

She felt her heart rate speed up a notch. "In the bathroom!" she yelled, forgetting his heightened senses.

"Christ, no need to deafen me, kid!" His voice became clearer as he entered the bedroom. "Are ya decent?"

Unfortunately, yes, she thought dryly. "Yeah!" she called back, a little quieter this time.

The bathroom door opened slowly and Logan's head peeped around the door. He regarded her with a look of bemusement. "What the hell are ya doin'?"

She grinned sheepishly as he entered the bathroom. "Trying to keep cool," she sighed. "What does it look like?"

"In ya clothes?"

She rolled her eyes. "Poison skin, remember?"

"Aint there a lock on the door?"

"Yeah…but…" she shrugged. "I like to feel normal sometimes."

"I lock my door when I take a bath. Nothing unusual about that."

Her face fell. She thought he'd understand. 

"Hey – I'm only kiddin' ya," he added quickly, no doubt reading the disappointed expression on her face. "I know what you're trying to say."

She felt guilty for judging him so soon. "You do?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded. 

She swept her big toe idly though the water. "Thought you'd be down at the lake with everyone else," she pointed out, unable to keep the sullenness from her tone.

"Me and crowds don't mix, kid," he countered. "But ya friends were expecting ya down there. Ice-boy seemed kinda disappointed."

"Thought you said that you and crowds don't mix?"

"Yeah, well, I _was_ having a quiet mornin' fishin' until they all showed up."

Marie grinned at the idea of him fishing. She was going to have to persuade him to let her tag along one day, just so that she could surprise him with all of her fishing knowledge. Her father had been a keen angler (probably still was, she decided bitterly) and she had spent many pleasant hours with him beside rivers and ponds. Those had been happy days, she pondered sadly, and she still couldn't understand how her parents could shut her out of their lives so easily now. She might be a mutant but she was still their daughter.

"So, how's about it? You gonna go join them?"

Returning to the present, Marie sighed again. "It's not practical, Logan. Not safe. Some of the new kids might not be aware-"

Scowling, he folded his arms. "I'm getting sick of this bullshit."

She snapped her gaze onto him, taken aback by his outburst. "What?" she demanded defensively.

"You're not a leper, Marie!"

"No! I'm a killer!" she threw back in frustration. "Or at least…" her voice softened. "I have the potential of being one."

His claws burst out of his right hand making her jump. "Join the club, darlin'"

She eyed the three lethal six-inch blades with fascination and it always concerned her that they never frightened her in the slightest. Surely she should be a little afraid? "Yeah, but you can control those."

His face darkened as he retracted them again "Didn't control them that night, did I?"

She knew exactly what _night_ he meant and the memory sent a shiver down her spine. She had never experienced pain like it. Or intimacy. Those few moments when she had hovered between life and death would always leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth. Would always be precious in a perverse kind of way. 

"That was _my_ fault. I never should have tried to wake you."

"You were doin' what ya do best, Marie – carin'. An' I appreciate it, kid." He met her eyes. "Never had anyone care `bout me before," he admitted gently. "An' it's…it's kinda nice."

Marie smiled warmly at his words. She knew that she was young, barely eighteen, but sometimes she felt that something was going to happen between her and Logan one day. Every now and again there was a fleeting look in his eyes – a promise – not just a promise to take care of her – but something that ran deeper. It wasn't going to happen yet, but…someday soon. She felt the butterflies stir in her stomach at the thought.

Logan quickly composed himself. "But ya can't care from a distance. Ya have to let people in."

"But I almost killed you, Logan."

"Yeah, an' I almost killed you so we're even. Neither of us deliberately set out to hurt the other." He took a few steps closer and reached for her face. She instantly recoiled back. When he ran his hand down the length of her hair instead she breathed a sigh of relief. "You've gotta stop being afraid, kid. You've gotta start livin'."

He glanced down at her feet and grinned. "An' standing, fully clothed, in a bath of cold water, aint livin'. It's just plain… weird."

"I'm a mutant, I'm allowed to be weird." She followed his gaze down to the ice cubes that bobbed contentedly upon the surface of the shallow water. "You should try it. It's bliss," she suggested half-heartedly.

He considered a moment then suddenly reached down to his boots. "Think I might."

She gaped at him in shock. "What are you talking about, Logan?"

"Feelin' kinda hot myself. Could do with coolin' down a bit."

"You can't come in here!" she gasped. "My feet are bare. Yours will be too!"

"Well, I'm hardly gonna step in with my boots on," he ribbed dryly.

"This isn't funny, Logan! You can't come in here!"

He ignored her and started to ease off his boots. "Should warn ya -I've got smelly feet."

The joke was lost on Marie as she began to panic, scooting across to the far end of the bath as he rolled his jeans up to his calves and promptly stepped into the water.

"Christ, that's cold!" he protested with a grimace.

"I know what you're trying to do and I…I appreciate it…but this is stupid."

To her annoyance he continued to ignore her and instead, reached into his jeans pocket. Pulling out a cigar he popped it casually into his mouth, retrieved a lighter from his other pocket and lit up.

He inhaling deeply, closing his eyes, before letting out a deliberately exaggerated sigh as he exhaled a generous cloud of smoke into the small bathroom.

Marie gaped at him. Was he crazy? She knew that her mutation had never bothered him but this was a little too bizarre. Her mouth twitched into a smile. Yet also… undeniably funny.

It was no good. She just couldn't stay angry at him for long. In fact, the sight of him standing in the bath, smoking one of those `huge' cigars of his, proved so hilarious that she burst out laughing.

He eyed her innocently, raising one of those unruly eyebrows of his, which only served to make her laugh harder. "Somethin' funny, kid?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Logan?" she blurted out. "The serious, brooding Wolverine who would rather face the whole of the Brotherhood than do anything remotely funny?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Her smile faltered. "You don't have to do this," she insisted gently. 

He gestured for her to move closer. She did so, albeit tentatively. Barely a step.

"Are ya scared, kid?"

She took a deep breath. "I think I feel more stupid than scared now." And she found herself moving a little closer. 

"This is as far as I'm going," she finally maintained. Their feet were now about half a metre apart.

"Fair enough," he agreed, taking another puff on his cigar before gripping it in his fingers to look at her sincerely. "There ya go," he began softly. "Two people. Standin' side by side. Close, but not touchin'. No big deal."

She took a deep breath. "No big deal," she accepted. For some reason this whole episode echoed of that special conversation they had shared on the train just before Magneto's attack.

He peered down thoughtfully. "An' it does feel kinda nice. Even if we do look-"

"Weird?" Marie reminded.

"Yeah."

They stood, side by side, a few minutes longer. "Logan, will you take me fishing sometime?"

"Sure, kid."

Marie glanced across at Logan's feet. "You don't have smelly feet, you know."

"I know."

"You have _huge_ big toes though."

"Thanks!" he snorted, a little put out.

Marie grinned. 

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He looked at her questioningly. "For what?"

"For _taking care of me._ "

He shrugged. "Well, it got kinda boring just takin' care of myself all the time."

"Seriously. Thanks." She felt her stomach lurch and in the silence of her mind she whispered: _I love you, Logan._

"Anytime, kid."

She wondered how long it would take for him to love her back. At least in the way she yearned. And as that _look_ flashed into his eyes again she concluded perhaps not that long at all. 

Not long at all.

THE END


End file.
